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- Нил Гейман
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The
world
beneath
them
flashed
past
in
one
strange
dream
.
Laura
adjusted
her
grip
on
the
stick
,
and
she
waited
for
the
man
she
knew
as
Mr
.
World
to
come
to
her
.
She
was
facing
away
from
him
,
looking
out
at
the
storm
,
and
the
dark
green
hills
below
.
In
this
sorry
world
,
she
thought
,
the
symbol
is
the
thing
.
Yes
.
She
felt
his
hand
close
softly
onto
her
right
shoulder
.
Good
,
she
thought
.
He
does
not
want
to
alarm
me
.
He
is
scared
that
I
will
throw
his
stick
out
into
the
storm
,
that
it
will
tumble
down
the
mountainside
,
and
he
will
lose
it
.
She
leaned
back
,
just
a
little
,
until
she
was
touching
his
chest
with
her
back
.
His
left
arm
curved
around
her
.
It
was
an
intimate
gesture
.
His
left
hand
was
open
in
front
of
her
.
She
closed
both
of
her
hands
around
the
top
of
the
stick
,
exhaled
,
concentrated
.
"
Please
.
My
stick
,
"
he
said
,
in
her
ears
.
"
Yes
,
"
she
said
.
"
It
’
s
yours
.
"
And
then
,
not
knowing
if
it
would
mean
anything
,
she
said
,
"
I
dedicate
this
death
to
Shadow
,
"
and
she
stabbed
the
stick
into
her
chest
,
just
below
the
breastbone
,
felt
it
writhe
and
change
in
her
hands
as
the
stick
became
a
spear
.
The
boundary
between
sensation
and
pain
had
diffused
since
she
had
died
.
She
felt
the
spear
head
penetrate
her
chest
,
felt
it
push
out
through
her
back
.
A
moment
’
s
resistance
—
she
pushed
harder
—
and
the
spear
thrust
into
Mr
.
World
.
She
could
feel
the
warm
breath
of
him
on
the
cool
skin
of
her
neck
,
as
he
wailed
in
hurt
and
surprise
,
impaled
on
the
spear
.
She
did
not
recognize
the
words
he
spoke
,
nor
the
language
he
said
them
in
.
She
pushed
the
shaft
of
the
spear
further
in
,
forcing
it
through
her
body
,
into
and
through
his
.
